


Indulgences

by LandOfMistAndSecrets



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Azure Moon Route, Blow Jobs, Dimilix Week (Fire Emblem), M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22738750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LandOfMistAndSecrets/pseuds/LandOfMistAndSecrets
Summary: Dimitri's figured something out about Felix -- and maybe about himself, as well.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 15
Kudos: 253
Collections: 2020 Dimilix Week





	Indulgences

**Author's Note:**

> 2020 Dimilix Week, Day Two, Tears.

Dimitri knew, intellectually, that Felix enjoyed a certain sort of treatment, in regards to amorous activities.

He had never _said_ so, of course. Not directly. It was knowledge gleaned purely from experience, from piecing together his words and actions, from observing the way his eyes flew wide and his pupils dilated and his breath caught in his throat whenever Dimitri managed to lose himself enough to give him orders, hold him down, to grip his hair tight in his fist or hold his hips so hard he left bruises. And how could he possibly _not_ notice the affected way Felix panted up at him in the training yard, pinned beneath his body on the losing end of a spar? The way he growled low in his throat when Dimitri pulled him unwisely and impulsively into shadowed alcolves, fighting in his grip until Dimitri forced his chin up and his lips apart beneath his tongue, at which point he always fairly melted against him, moaning and whimpering into his mouth? 

He noticed, and so he knew. 

He repeated this to himself, over and over, as he considered his plans for the evening.

There was no special occasion, no excuse forthcoming when he took Felix by the arm ahead of their afternoon council meetings and murmured quietly in his ear, “I want you in my chambers, tonight.” 

Even so, Felix seemed amenable, even eager, judging by the way his eyes flew wide and a telltale wash of pink suffused his cheeks. Dimitri smiled down at him, pleased by the way even that simple invitation affected him, and gave his arm a quick, affectionate squeeze. Felix schooled his features quickly back to passing annoyance and shook him off, grumbling under his breath, but Dimitri knew him well enough to see the spring in his step as he swept ahead of him into the chamber. 

It was a heady thing, the knowledge that anyone could want him the way Felix did, heart and mind and body. Headier still that it could be _Felix,_ whose affections he had been certain, for a time, had been lost to him forever. 

From there, the day passed at a wretched pace, the minutes distending into hours each. They sat beside each other, King and Duke, and Dimitri tried his best to absorb the key points of the meeting at hand. Order disputes, mostly. They called themselves the United Kingdom of Fodlan, but in truth, for the moment, there was very little but tenuous necessity that held them together. Nobles and wealthy landowners from both the former Empire and Alliance lobbied viciously and incessantly for their own interests, right alongside Dimitri’s own familiar peers.

Felix, as always, did more of the talking. Dimitri found himself more than content to let him speak his harsh yet necessary truths, stepping in only when necessary to soothe bruised egos and mediate the worst of the disagreements that crossed the table. Even so, it was exhausting work. Dimitri’s headaches plagued him still, and exhaustion left him vulnerable to the fleeting shadows and quiet whispers that followed him, always. 

So it was that when they broke at last for a quick recess, Dimitri found that it was Felix pulling him, for once, into an alcove for a private moment. Dimitri followed him eagerly, especially when Felix took his hands in his own and linked their fingers together, glaring up and down the hall over his shoulder for any wayward onlookers. Such displays of public affection from him were rare, and Dimitri treasured every offered opportunity. 

“Felix?” he prompted, softly, squeezing his hands. 

“Your face is pale,” Felix snapped up at him, glaring in that way he had that meant he was worried to the detriment of his own mood. Dimitri smiled at him. 

“Ah,” he teased. “Well, you see, Duke Fraldarius… these Fhaergus winters leave us little daylight. I apologize if my complexion has caused you undue alarm.” 

“Hah,” Felix snorted up at him, shaking his hands away. “Your head. How is it?” 

“Aching,” Dimitri admitted. There was no point in mincing, not with Felix. “It is unpleasant, but hardly unbearable,” he added, because even if there was no point in mincing, he could at least try to reassure him. 

“And the voices?” Felix demanded, his voice so soft as to be barely audible. 

“...Quiet,” Dimitri said, cautiously. He did not like to acknowledge them, but then, neither did Felix. 

“But not silent,” Felix said, regardless. Dimitri nodded. “I’ll suggest we reconvene in the morning,” Felix said, firmly.

“That isn’t necessary. If we can reach a consensus today --” 

Felix laughed at him, cutting his words cleanly off. “Dimitri,” he sighed. “There’s optimism, and then there’s foolishness. Don’t be a fool. Yours isn’t the only exhausted face around that table. If we try to press the matter, we’ll waste the entire afternoon with tiresome, unproductive bickering.” 

Hesitantly, Dimitri nodded. “Very well,” he said. “We’ll reconvene come morning.” 

Satisfied, Felix nodded back. “Good.” He straightened his shoulders and brushed self consciously at the lapels of his fine fleece-lined statesman’s waistcoat. “So.” He cleared his throat, chin down. 

“Hm?” Dimitri blinked at him, frowning. It wasn’t like Felix to hold himself back, whether in regards to advice or simple observation.

He watched Felix suck in a deep breath, his cheeks puffing out in defiant -- and, truthfully, somewhat adorable -- effort. “This leaves you with more free time than you imagined having today, doesn’t it?” he pressed. 

And, quite suddenly, Dimitri realized what he was actually asking. Heat rose inevitably in him as he considered the obvious and intriguing question beneath the bland observation. Thoughts of certain observations and desires spooled together within him, making his heart knock against his ribs.

“So it would seem,” he said, carefully. “And you, Felix? Are you terribly busy, I wonder?” 

Felix scoffed up at him, but his disinterested demeanor couldn’t hide the renewed wash of pink crawling up from his neck and onto his face. Resolutely, he refused eye contact, keeping his gaze focused on some point off in the distance, over Dimitri’s shoulder.

“The only plans I had tonight all involved you,” he muttered, letting the lingering implication hang between them loud and clear. 

A rare bit of lightness settled pleasantly in Dimitri’s chest, watching him frown and blush and fidget as he did. Overcome by sudden, reckless impulse and the emboldening knowledge he’d pieced together about Felix’s own preferences, he stepped forward and leaned close, pressing his lips just above the reddening shell of his ear. “I would enjoy the opportunity to take my time with you,” he said, pressing him back by the shoulder deeper into the curve of the carved stone alcove. Felix moved with him, his breath actually catching audibly in his throat. Dimitri turned his face and caught Felix’s lips, then, and the way they parted instantly to let him kiss him long and deep put enough heat in him that he felt his body stir. 

Felix felt it, too. He grunted a soft little sound of surprise, and then he laughed into Dimitri’s mouth, muffled and quiet and unbearably sweet. Even sweeter, Felix brought his hands up to either side of Dimitri’s face to run his fingertips through his hair, and simultaneously, he swayed his hips forward, pressing their bodies slowly and intentionally together. When he pulled back, they were both red-faced and short of breath, the very sight of them a scandal. 

“First things first,” Felix said, firmly, lifting a hand to wipe at his lips, which were pink and puffy and wet now from their efforts. “We dismiss the council. And then _dinner,_ Dimitri,” he added, crossly. “You need to eat. Don’t think I’ll let you seduce me into turning a blind eye to your poor habits.” He jabbed a single accusatory finger forward. 

“I would never dream of it,” Dimitri assured him, smiling still. 

The council parted amicably enough, but dinner proved to be a nearly interminable affair. They took their meal in relative privacy, but even so, there was no escaping the bustle of the staff, servers and attendants all eager to impress. It left them little opportunity for further teasing, and embarrassingly, Dimitri found himself wound so tight with stymied desire that even only watching Felix eat felt somehow voyeuristic. The way his eyes could not seem to help but linger over the lines of his neck, the curve of his jaw, the sweep of his shoulders…

Felix noticed, too.

He seemed to enjoy it, in fact. He kept his face carefully shuttered, but Dimitri knew him well enough to know how to watch for those quick little flicks of his gaze, watching to ensure Dimitri was still watching _him._ Felix did nothing particularly lascivious, or even very overt, but the way he took his time with his meal, taking each bite slowly and deliberately, savoring each perfectly polite little swallow of spiced cider wine… surely he knew that he was torturing him. Dimitri could not help but watch the bob of his throat as he swallowed. He gazed at him as though transfixed, and Felix’s darting little glances inevitably caught him, his lips twitching so very knowingly against the rim of his glass. 

When he set about cleaning the gravy off his spoon with his tongue -- that was the moment it all became simply too much. Dimitri stood, abruptly, and the sound of his chair scraping over the floor hardly registered over the pounding of his own heartbeat. Felix paused, fixing him with a mild, vaguely annoyed sort of look, his brows arched just slightly, and Dimitri felt himself flush deep and hot, head to toe. He was being ridiculous! Acting like some out of control teenager, careening wildly from fantasy to fantasy, each more heated than the last. Even as he stared helplessly back at him, his mind supplied him with images -- Felix on his knees for him, his face turned up and his lips parted, his tongue curling forward, eager to be of use -- 

Dimitri sucked in a deep breath, shuttering the image away, but of course, his body was already responding. If Felix knew the precise nature of his thoughts, would he be disgusted by his presumptuousness? Or would the knowledge of the heat he put in him so easily spur his own desire?

“What’s the matter with you,” Felix demanded, scattering his thoughts. Dimitri startled like a snared rabbit, eyes wide. No reasonable excuses came to mind. Felix snorted up at him, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He had already set down that offending spoon. Dimitri could not help but notice how clean it was. 

And, just for a moment, a knowing, proud little smirk stole over Felix’s expression, there and gone in the space of an instant. 

Dimitri seized upon it, that brief little twitch of his lips, and let it steel his heart. _Be bold,_ he reminded himself. Felix enjoyed when he was daring and demanding with him. 

“Leave us,” he commanded, low and ringing with all the authority of a king. Their gracious servers froze where they were, plates and utensils and steaming towels in hand. They exchanged looks amongst each other, and even Felix sat up straighter, his brow creasing. The staff seemed to think better of protesting, or even speaking, for instead of doing so they simply bowed in jittery unison and swept from the room in a line, without complaint or any request for clarification. 

They would be spying from the kitchen, Dimitri thought. The opportunity for gossip was far too fine for any proper maid or footman to resist. The prudent thing would have been to excuse himself to his chambers and trust that Felix would follow. 

He was not, however, in a prudent state of mind. 

“What are you doing?” Felix demanded, and perhaps he imagined the strained quality of his voice, the way it climbed just slightly too high, undermining his own attempt to seem authoritative. Perhaps. But he did not think so. Dimitri elected not to answer. Instead, he stepped quietly and purposefully around the table until he stood over him, so near that Felix had to tilt his head up to keep his eyes on his face. 

He did not think he imagined the eager challenge that shone there, either. 

Felix liked a certain sort of treatment, he reminded himself. He would no doubt enjoy it, if he were to simply reach out and wind his fist in that long, beautiful hair of his, hauling him off his seat and onto his knees. He would enjoy it better if it were spontaneous, unexpected, thrilling in how daring it was, how desperately depraved. 

He reached out to follow the path of his thoughts, and succeeded only in brushing Felix’s hair gently out of his eyes, trailing his fingers over the deep trenches of his creased brow. 

Felix slapped his hand away. “Dimitri,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “Did you hear me? I said, what are you --” 

“Be quiet,” Dimitri said. 

Felix went silent. His jaw tightened and bulged, his eyes went narrower still, and a telltale flush crept up his neck from beneath his fur-lined collar. Dimitri pressed his fingers beneath his pointed chin, tilting his head up further still, and gave him a soft, embarrassed little smile. 

“I love you,” he said, softly and simply, trying with all of his might to pour all the warmth he felt saying it into his enunciation of each word. Felix’s eyes widened, and then he pulled his face away and scooted his chair back from him, red-faced and scowling. 

“Shut up,” he hissed, with a meaningful glance back at the door through which all their servers had retreated. “You can’t just say things like that,” he added, furiously. 

“I cannot tell you, Felix, how little I care if they overhear it.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Felix complained, but the spots of color on his cheeks -- that flush was one of pleasure, first and foremost. Dimitri knew him well enough to know. He stepped forward and reached for him once more, and despite his protests, Felix allowed it, just as Dimitri had known he would. 

This time, Dimitri dragged his fingers back deep into Felix’s hair, and tightened his grip. Felix sucked in an audible breath, still and silent before him, gazing up from his seat.

“Tell me that you understand,” Dimitri murmured. He tightened his fist. Felix made a soft sound, his eyes fluttering shut. Dimitri saw him swallow, watched as all the delicate muscles in his neck tensed and then relaxed. “Felix,” he breathed. “Let me give you what you want.” 

Felix’s eyes flickered open, bright and beautiful and questioning, too. “What I want,” he repeated. “What do _you_ want?” he flung the words like a challenge, making a contest of it. So very Felix. Dimitri smiled, more than ready for the question.

“I want to make you wild for me,” he said, his voice a low, rough rumble from deep within his chest. “As wild as I am for you. I want to watch every moment in rapture as you serve me, Felix. I want to see you sweat and gasp and labor for my pleasure… and for yours, as well.” He brushed a thumb over his jaw, and then slowly across his lips. “You used to cry for me so often. Do you remember? With joy when we were reunited, and with such sorrow when we inevitably, eventually had to part.” 

“I don’t cry, anymore,” Felix said. The strained, breathless quality of his voice was every bit as distracting as the desire plain on his face. Dimitri shook his head. He did, and they both knew it. 

“I never thought to see such emotion from you again,” he murmured. “Certainly not on my behalf. So, tell me that you understand, won’t you? That I love you, deeply and desperately, with all that I am… and still, I want so badly to see your tears. I mean to make you cry for me, Felix. I intend to have you sobbing while you serve me on your knees.” 

For a moment, Felix simply looked at him, eyes wide, lips parted. “I understand,” he said, eventually, when he found his voice. He swayed forward in his seat, and Dimitri wondered if he even realized he was doing it. “You want this here?” he asked, licking his lips.

“Now,” Dimitri said. 

Felix slid forward off the chair, falling obediently to his knees. His breathing was audible, sharp and quick, and it was gratifying indeed how his hands flew up to work the latch of Dimitri’s belt all of his own accord. Dimitri kept the hand he had in his hair fisted tight, following his movements, and watched eagerly while his slender fingers tugged at his buttons and laces and opened his pants, right there in the middle of the royal dining chambers, like there weren’t at least a dozen servants looking in on them from the kitchen.

Dimitri wanted very much to whisper encouragements, compliments, reassurances. _Be commanding,_ he reminded himself, fiercely. He had promised a certain sort of treatment, and he meant to follow through. 

“You’re so eager for it,” he said. It took all of his effort to make himself sound so contemptuous. “Aren’t you, Felix?” 

Felix made a derisive, scoffing sound, even as he reached beneath cloth and layers to wrap his fingers around Dimitri’s cock. Dimitri closed his eyes and swayed his hips forward, an appreciative moan slipping from him, unbidden. Felix knew exactly what to do, precisely how best to squeeze and stroke and tease him. 

“Eager, perhaps, but not nearly so impatient as you,” Felix said. “ _Here_ , Dimitri? Really?” 

In response, Dimitri leveraged his grip on his hair to haul him bodily forward. Felix gasped and swore and reached up to steady himself on Dimitri’s thighs. Dimitri swayed his hips, letting the flushed tip of his arousal brush against Felix’s cheek, marking him with the fluids already gathered there. He felt himself flush top to bottom as he did, especially when Felix responded to this with a low moan of his own. Felix turned his head and licked a stripe up the side of his cock, and Dimitri could not help but gasp his own appreciation. 

“Enough,” he commanded. With his free hand, he guided himself against Felix’s lips. “You have a talent for this, I know. Show me, Felix…” 

In response, those lips parted around him and took him in, and it took all of his self control not to cry out. He would never get used to the heat of it, he thought. The wet, hot slide of Felix’s tongue, curling beneath the underside of him, flicking and teasing. The pressure around him as Felix closed his eyes and hollowed his cheeks, sucking at the tip and then sinking further down to take more of him in. Yes, he had a talent, and he knew it, too. 

He might have simply allowed Felix to set the pace and continue as he was, had he not planned for and practically promised so much more. Instead, he gave Felix only a few moments to acclimate, and then he used his grip in his hair to force his head back and his chin up, angling him so that the sway of his hips forced his cock in deep. Felix’s only protests came in the form of involuntary grunts and the way his body went taught with effort, his fingers digging into Dimitri’s thighs, and slowly, Dimitri ground his hips further forward, until his cock pressed against the back of Felix’s throat. Felix’s eyes squeezed shut. Muffled little groans escaped him through his flared nostrils. 

“Look at me,” Dimitri ordered, voice tight. 

Felix ignored him. Instead, he released his grip on Dimitri’s leg to reach up and slap desperately at the back of his thighs. He tried to pull away, to give himself a moment of respite, perhaps in need of air, but Dimitri steeled himself against his reflex to accommodate and instead held him firm in place, easily overpowering his efforts. 

“Felix,” he commanded, warning him. “ _Look at me._ I will not repeat myself again.” 

A low whine escaped Felix’s throat, and when he opened his eyes -- _ah._ Dimitri’s breath caught and his cock pulsed, and impulsively, he brushed Felix’s sweat-slick hair out of his eyes and breathed his name, reverently. Felix used that moment of indulgent weakness to pull himself off his cock and turn his face aside and _breathe,_ even as his body shook around a series of deep, wet, shuddering coughs. The tears Dimitri had seen gathered in his eyes spilled out over his cheeks. 

His first instinct, of course, was to apologize. He swallowed down that urge and focused instead on the ache in his cock, his balls, deep in his belly, hot and wanting. “More, Felix,” he demanded, moving his hand to grip the back of his neck. “Again. Let me see you.”

Felix coughed and swore and dragged the back of one hand over his mouth, chest heaving as he gulped his breaths -- but he obeyed, just as Dimitri had known he would. He turned his face back toward him, meeting his gaze defiantly despite his wet, overwhelmed expression. “Fine,” he rasped, his voice tearing raggedly already from his bruised throat. “Give it here, then.” He turned his face up and parted his lips, and his tears shouldn’t have made Dimitri’s heart stutter and his body flare with such desire, but, ah, they did, they always did. 

He guided himself back into the sweet heat of Felix’s mouth, groaning at the decadent pleasure of his lips, his tongue, and his open, eager throat. He did not go slowly, did not warn him as he swung his hips forward in one long, smooth motion, but Felix seemed to expect it, and he made himself ready for him. 

“Goddess,” Dimitri gasped, running his thumbs over Felix’s cheeks, catching his tears as they fell. “You are so incredible,” he panted. “So good at this, so good for me, _Felix…_ ” It was not very commanding, he supposed, but Felix didn’t seem to mind. He groaned and swallowed, his throat tight as it worked around him, and Dimitri gasped with delight and pushed forward, invading him further. Felix slapped at him again, but he barely felt that at all over the sheer exultant pleasure of it.

It was only reluctantly that he pulled back, eventually. Felix sucked in a breath through his nose, swallowed again, and then pushed _himself_ forward, taking Dimitri’s cock back down deep, eager to be used so ungently again. Dimitri did let him set the pace for a time, then, content to hold Felix’s wet, fierce gaze while he worked himself on his cock, sliding his lips up and down his length, teasing him with the flat of his tongue. Yet, sweet even as it was, he soon felt his own need building, burning for more. 

“Felix,” he gasped. “You can do more, can’t you?” He slid his fingers back through his hair, gripping him gently with both hands. “For me?” 

Felix blinked up at him, brows furrowed, and scooted forward further on his knees. He wrapped his arms around the backs of Dimitri’s thighs and squeezed tightly, tilting his head back at just the angle Dimitri needed to sink down near to the hilt within him. Dimitri moaned as he did so, exulting in the tight, wet heat all around him. He tightened his grip in Felix’s hair, holding him steady in his hands as he dragged his hips back and then snapped them forward, thrusting into him. 

Wet, choked sounds escaped Felix as he did so, and Dimitri moaned again at the way his voice made his throat vibrate around him, coaxing the heat within him higher. He drew back and then forward again, fucking into him, setting a rhythm that sent him fast toward his own completion. Felix’s grip on him never relented, though his eyes squeezed shut once more as he focused on forcing his mouth and throat loose and open for him. Fresh tears spilled over his cheeks, and Dimitri cried out an unsteady warning just moments before he came, the first pulse of it spending itself directly down Felix’s throat. 

The rest filled his mouth and spilled out over his lips and down his chin, bubbling out of him as he coughed and sputtered around his cock. He pulled himself off with a desperate sound, and one wet, glistening rope of it streaked a path across his cheek, through the wet trail of his tears. Dimitri let out a ragged, gasping moan and gripped himself tight in his own hands, squeezing and stroking himself as the last few strings of it escaped him, painting lines over Felix’s upturned face. 

When it had burned itself out within him, he staggered backward, and Felix too slumped back, lifting one sleeve to hide the mess of his face behind it. Dimitri reached back behind himself with shaking hands and found a dining chair to collapse into before his knees gave out -- though it was a close thing, indeed. 

Long seconds passed where neither of them spoke a word. The harsh sounds of their breathing mingled, and Dimitri focused on that and the rustle of cloth as Felix presumably made a cursory attempt to clean his face. Dimitri sagged back into his chair, lifting a hand to drag fingers through his own sweaty mess of hair, and considered scolding him for it. He’d have liked to have seen more of him like that, flushed and sweating and streaked with spit and tears and come. His head spun as he pictured it again in his mind, dizzily committing every detail of it to memory.

Felix’s voice brought him out of his heated reverie. “Are you satisfied, then?” he growled, eyes narrowed and peeking out at him over his sleeve. His hair was half pulled from its ties, mussed and tangled, and a sheen of sweat still stood out on his forehead. His tone was sharp and demanding, but the look in his eyes… ah. Dimitri’s heart stuttered anew at the hopeful, eager shine in them, making him seem younger than he was, reminding him again of the sweet, adoring boy he had once been. 

Dimitri laughed, softly. Felix’s brow creased and his gaze darkened, but before he could say anything, Dimitri held his hands up in a warding gesture and shook his head, slowly. 

“Am I satisfied,” he repeated, thoughtfully. “Ah, no. No, Felix, not nearly.” He dropped his hands and set about making himself decent, tucking himself away, retying his laces with shaking fingers. “The hour is early, yet.” He watched Felix watch him button his pants and stand, his pretty narrow chin tilting up to follow his face. He still had fluids smeared beneath his bottom lip, shining in the firelight. Dimitri caught his face with one hand and brushed his thumb through the mess of it, dragging it against the seam of his lips. 

Felix made an annoyed sound, but he couldn’t deny the way his cheeks darkened or his tongue darted out to run obediently over the pad of his thumb. He did not even need to be told, Dimitri thought, watching him in wordless wonder. He truly did desire this treatment, crave it, enjoy it. He smiled down at him, and then held out a hand to help him to his feet. 

Scoffing, Felix wiped his face once more against his sleeve and took it. Dimitri hauled him up and forward and into the circle of his arms, smiling still. He was allowed to grant himself _some_ few indulgences, even when he had promised to be commanding, surely. Felix folded begrudgingly against him, returning his embrace, though not without grumbling into his shoulder. Dimitri laughed into the tangle of his hair, and then, before Felix could move or think or even protest, he pulled him around and stepped forward, bending with a grunt of effort to whisk him up into his arms. 

Felix _did_ protest then, of course. “ _Dimitri,_ ” he complained, even as he hastily slung one arm around his shoulders, holding himself against him. “Are you serious? Put me down, don’t be _ridiculous --_ ” 

“With all due respect,” Dimitri said, cutting him gently but firmly off, “I think that I shall be whatever I please, your Grace.” He smiled down at him. Felix’s face was pleasantly flushed, his brows knit and his cheeks puffed out in comical fury. It reminded Dimitri so much of when they were younger, when things had been simple and easy. He bent his neck to bring their lips together, utterly powerless to resist the urge to kiss him, deep and thorough. 

When they parted, Felix’s glare had softened considerably, though he frowned up at him still. The arm he had around Dimitri’s neck bent up so that he could sink his fingers into his hair, tugging fiercely. 

“Put me down,” he insisted. 

“I will,” Dimitri promised. “In my bed, where you most belong.” He started forward. 

“Dimitri --” 

“Unless you would rather somewhere else,” Dimitri said, reasonably. He took a deep breath. “I have often considered taking you atop the council table,” he divulged, hushing his voice as though confiding something secret. Felix made a choked sound, his free hand falling over his eyes as though to hide himself behind it. “Or perhaps you cannot wait even that long? Shall I take you in the hall, then? Against the bannister, or --?” 

“What has gotten into you,” Felix gasped up at him. “You’re not usually so damned insatiable. Or so demanding, for that matter!” 

“Ah,” Dimitri paused, his tone thoughtful. “Do you dislike it?” 

Felix dropped the hand over his face and peered up at him, all his prior frustration melted into what seemed mostly like curiosity, instead. “You know I don’t,” he muttered, his gaze sliding meekly away from him. He sucked in a breath, his cheeks puffing outward, again. “So then, that’s all this is about,” he said. “My own benefit.” 

“Hah.” Dimitri started forward again, shifting Felix easily in his grip to unlatch the door and let them out into the hall. “Do not think it is entirely unselfish, Felix. I have meant every word I’ve said, tonight.” Wisely, the castle staff seemed to have vacated that particular corridor, and indeed, the entire way to his chambers was curiously free of both guards and attendants, as though all of Fhirdiad had somehow managed to intuit his intentions. Well, perhaps they had, he thought, flushing all the way to the tips of his ears. They had not precisely been subtle. 

“About my tears,” Felix clarified, only with the door to the royal chambers shut firmly at their backs. 

“About all of it,” Dimitri said. “And besides… it pleases me to please you, Felix.” He carried him, as promised, to the royal bed, piled high with soft sheets and thick furs. He’d had Felix countless times atop it, so many that even in those rare instances when he did sleep alone, he could smell Felix’s scent clinging to every corner of it still, faint and comforting. “You ought to know as much, by now.” He laid him out atop the furs, still clothed in his formal wear for the council. He would enjoy undressing him, Dimitri thought. Slowly, layer by layer… 

“Dimitri,” Felix said again, crossing his arms, interrupting his sweet, hazy, desire-clouded thoughts. The bed creaked as Dimitri climbed over and atop him. Felix frowned up at him, something uncertain in his gaze, something that actually did give Dimitri pause. 

“Hm?” he murmured, halfway already to recapturing his mouth. 

“Do you really think there has _ever_ been a time, even a moment, where I have felt anything less than…” Felix turned his head, his brow furrowed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “ _Entirely_ too much about you, for you?” 

He made a thoughtful sound. “I don’t know,” he said, truthfully. “There was a time when you were entirely closed to me, or so it felt. And those years when I did not see you at all… I could not presume to know what you felt for me, then.” 

“Really?” Felix said, and it was clear from his tone that it was not the response he had wanted to hear. “Is it really so unclear to you? You can’t even guess?” 

Dimitri had learned long ago that sometimes it was better to forgo words with Felix entirely, in favor of more indirect communication. He employed this lesson thoroughly, pushing his tongue past his lips and his fingers through his hair, dragging a knee over the line of his arousal down between his legs. Some of the tension drained out of the way Felix held himself, and Dimitri let out a murmuring little laugh into his mouth when he felt Felix spread his legs and arch himself beneath him, asking indirectly for more so brazenly when he would never do so with his words. 

“I do not wish for you to think I have ever taken your feelings for granted,” Dimitri said, when eventually he pulled apart from him. Felix blinked up at him, breathing hard, spots of color in his cheeks. “At least, not since we were children. I did exactly that, back then. Your friendship, your trust… your admiration and loyalty --” 

“My _love,_ ” Felix corrected him, sharply. Dimitri fell silent, staring down at him, a tangle of emotion catching in his throat and stopping his tongue. “My love for you. Dimitri. I could never think of you and feel _nothing,_ not in all my life.” 

His tongue felt thick, heavy, too big for his mouth, so he simply nodded over him, silently. Felix made a soft, derisive sound, rolled his eyes, and tightened his fingers in Dimitri’s hair, pulling him down for another long, deep, searing kiss. They groaned into each other’s mouths, the sounds they made all wet and obscene and unguarded, and this time when they parted Felix wore a particularly fierce expression. 

“Enough of this,” he panted, rolling his hips up to grind their bodies slowly and deliberately together. “I can’t -- with words, Dimitri, I can’t…” 

“It’s all right,” Dimitri assured him, meeting his movements with pressure of his own. “I understand. Felix…” He brushed the backs of his fingers over his cheek and across his temple, smiling down at him. “You’ll cry for me again, won’t you?” 

“Make me,” Felix breathed up at him. “Come on.” He rocked himself forward, straining against the confines of his own pants. “Take me apart, damn you. I’ll do anything for you, won’t I? So make me.” 

“I will,” Dimitri promised. He stilled his fingers in his hair, and his heart leapt at the way Felix gasped when he tightened them there, winding thick strands of his soft hair around his fist. “Goddess help me, but I swear, Felix -- I will. All night… every night… again and again, so long as you’ll allow it.” 

“Forever, then,” Felix said, breathless and hoarse, still, his voice scraping out of his battered throat. “You swear to me -- forever.” 

Dimitri held him down, and beneath him, Felix shuddered for him, more than willing -- enthusiastic, even. “Forever,” Dimitri agreed, and then he hooked an arm beneath Felix’s knee and pushed his leg back, using his free hand to work impatiently at his laces, eager to prove his dedication to the promise. 

It wouldn’t take long, he thought. Felix’s eyes were shining for him already, bright and glassy and beautiful, full of all the things he could and would never need to say for him aloud.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter: [@landofsmthsmth](https://twitter.com/landofsmthsmth)


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